


compañera

by cthru



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, DEA Agent Reader, Español | Spanish, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I don't think there's any spoilers???, Javier being a tease, Mentions of Sex, POV Second Person, Reader being a badass, Reader-Insert, Some Plot, Steve being a big brother, Swearing, but also soft, early season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22268422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cthru/pseuds/cthru
Summary: A series of snapshots of Javier Peña and the Reader's relationship and his fixation with calling you "compañera".The corners of his lips quirked and if you hadn't already been gazing at his mouth, you wouldn't have noticed it.(Javier Peña was a damn handsome man and you were still a woman who had eyes, for pity's sake.)He squeezed your arm and murmured tiredly, but sincerely: "Good work, compañera."You turned around to watch him walk away and you couldn't figure out whether to feel proud, compassionate or disappointed.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 203





	compañera

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first Narcos fic since I was one of the people who literally started binging the show just because of Pedro Pascal and the Mandalorian, lol. The fic contains speech in Spanish, since I wanted to retain that aspect of the show, but you can find translations in English included. I am not a fluent Spanish speaker, so I do apologize if anything is wrong or strange sounding.
> 
> If you're a fan of long fics with some plot and Javier Peña, then you've come to the right place. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Y/N - your name; Y/L/N - your last name)

_This is a fucking nightmare._

The words on the page in front of you started blurring together no matter how hard you tried to squeeze your eyes or rub your temples in a pitiful effort to force them to make sense again. Soon, your vision was filled with smudged black ink in the vague shape of letters and you couldn’t stand it anymore. A deep sigh escaped your lips and you allowed your head to fall limp onto your forearms.

The DEA’s task force (consisting of you, Murphy and Peña) had gotten a gift, of sorts, from the local police: reports from around the time when Pablo Escobar had been arrested briefly. The only problem was that the files spanned _years_ and even though you knew the exact year you needed, the reports weren’t organized even remotely and you had to comb through _hundreds_ of papers for only one small but highly significant folder, which contained evidence that Escobar was linked to the drug trade in Colombia and Miami. You knew you had to be thankful to even have this stack of files – it was more than you’ve had for weeks on Pablo – and the snitch had been rightly terrified shitless to even give you those in fear of the kingpin finding out and taking care of him. But right at that second?

You couldn’t give a rat’s ass about gratitude. All you knew was that you were exhausted and you wanted to catch some shut-eye in your own, albeit shitty, bed.

Murphy was at the desk on your left, steadily and surely going through each report he had in his stack. He had taken some smoke breaks and a couple of calls from his wife, but he didn’t look nearly as desperate as you felt. You weren’t sure if you envied him or pitied him. Peña had disappeared some time ago, presumably to smoke outside, but you weren’t sure. A small part of you was annoyed that he was enjoying cool and fresh air while you and Murphy were holed up in the small, smoke and file-filled office, drowning in despair and delirium. As soon as that train of thought finished, you realized you were being unnecessarily dramatic and you slightly hit your head onto your forearms.

“You okay there, Y/L/N?”

“Yep,” you answered, voice muffled. It was a miracle Murphy even understood what you said.

“Sure?” he pressed.

You hummed in affirmation, hoping Steve would drop it before you snapped in frustration. You knew he was just being a good partner but common sense and manners had flown out the window hours ago, when you had first sat in your god-awful chair.

“I’ve got the answer to her problem, Murphy, don’t worry.”

At the sound of Peña’s voice, you raised your head eagerly, causing a bit of vertigo to invade your senses but you ignored it.

“The report?”

“I wish,” he replied, coming over to your desk. He looked way better than when you last saw him, the familiar mischievous glint in his eye and his lips curved in a smirk. “I mean coffee, _compañera._ ”

Amidst the disappointment that you were likely to spend the night at the office, your face lit up as Peña handed you a cup, filled to the brim with black coffee. The smell wafting from the warm mug alone gave you a small burst of energy, so you eagerly took a generous gulp. Immediately, the fog clouding your mind cleared and you looked up at your second partner with a look you hoped showed sincere gratitude.

“Thank you, Javi.”

He smiled and mock-saluted in response, heading to the desk on your right, leaving you in the middle, _always_ in the middle between Murphy and Peña.

You were assigned to _Medellín_ shortly after Steve Murphy, headquarters deeming it necessary to embed as many agents as possible without it becoming too worrisome for the local government. The partnership had started out rocky and unsure, mistakes were made because of unwillingness to trust and that had quickly sobered up all parties involved. Right now, you considered you had a good working relationship with both Peña and Murphy – you knew they had your back and they knew you had theirs. Work flowed smoothly after that but it sadly didn’t help much – Escobar was gaining more strength and more support _by the hour_. It seemed hopeless but well, that had never stopped you three.

Sipping your coffee slowly, trying to draw out the pleasant feeling of caffeine flowing through you, your gaze flitted about the office, occasionally landing on your partners, both immersed in police reports. It finally landed on the one on your right – Peña – and you wondered…

What did _compañera_ mean?

* * *

“ _Vamos, compañera!_ ” ( _Come on, partner!)_

You were sprinting through the streets of _Medellín_ , bulletproof vest on and gun out, chasing _La Quica_ , one of Escobar’s top _sicarios_ , and another one of the drug trafficker’s men, who wasn’t as important but still probably knew valuable information. Javier was running about 10 meters ahead of you.

“Right behind you!” you shouted back at him, willing yourself to go faster up the hill.

Suddenly _La Quica_ swerved to the left into a narrow alleyway and the other goon went the opposite direction, climbing onto a rooftop. Peña immediately followed the _sicario_ which meant you were climbing rooftops.

_Fucking great._

For a chubby guy, the motherfucker sure climbed fast. Even though you didn’t hesitate, you stumbled a couple of times due to the structures being unstable and littered with trash. You sneaked a peek at the rooftops ahead and there was one that was on a taller building but there was a ladder down to a secluded alleyway you suspected led out of the block. The goon didn’t strike you as the smartest and you prayed to God he would be as idiotic as you hoped.

You stopped running and pulled out your gun, aiming at the man, when he turned his head around briefly and saw that you had halted. He laughed and shouted something in Spanish.

“Yeah, keep laughing, motherfucker,” you murmured under your breath. You saw that he was going to turn around again and you pretended to be tired and put your hands on your knees, while still keeping an eye on him. As soon as he saw that, he started climbing the wall you had predicted he would go for. You rose quickly and aimed your gun.

Son of a bitch went down like a bird.

You ran quickly to the place he fell and thankfully, he was still on the ground, clutching his bleeding knee. He was going to be fine, the wound wasn’t fatal, but he was screaming as if his leg was torn off. You unhooked your handcuffs from your belt and pulled him up with great effort while he still whined like he was dying.

“Shut the fuck up, _culo (ass)_!” you barked at him and shoved him forward.

Murphy was waiting for you back at the busted lab, his hands on his hips. You could see yourself leading Escobar’s man reflected in his sunglasses. You couldn’t lie to yourself – you liked the sight.

Steve nodded at you respectfully. Looking around, he asked, “Where’s Peña?”

“I don’t know, we got separated. He went after _La Quica_.”

As if summoned, the man in question slowly walked down the hill.

 _Alone_.

You sighed in disappointment, yet again having come _this_ close at catching one of Pablo Escobar’s top men. One of Carrillo’s officers passed by and you handed your prisoner off to him and gave him orders what to do. Peña had reached Murphy in the meantime and the two were talking, the former clearly frustrated, annoyed and disappointed at the same time. You quickly sent the officer off, not wanting to miss any kind of debrief.

When you came close to them, Javier turned towards you, his eyes filled with exhaustion. You were overcome with the need to comfort him somehow but you kept your hands to yourself, knowing that it wouldn’t really help. Once you got in your head about guilt, there was no getting out, no matter what anyone said.

“You got Alvarez?” he asked.

You simply nodded in reply.

The corners of his lips quirked and if you hadn't already been gazing at his mouth, you wouldn't have noticed it.

(Javier Peña was a damn handsome man and you were still a woman who had eyes, for pity's sake.)

He squeezed your arm and murmured tiredly, but sincerely: "Good work, _compañera_."

You turned around to watch him walk away and you couldn't figure out whether to feel proud, compassionate or disappointed.

* * *

_Compañera_ had become a regular culprit in Javier Peña's day-to-day vernacular when it came to you.

Your Spanish had improved a bit, enough to say some simple sentences but not enough to be comfortable in a conversation with fluent speakers. You had noticed your partner's increased use of the word when referring to you, but you figured it meant something like _partner_ or _friend_ , supposing it was similar to the English word "companion", so you didn't really think about it much.

But then there were _smirks_. And _winks_. And it wasn't so difficult to pretend your partner wasn't using his wily charms on you to get you in bed for a night like his _informants_.

Now, you had the dignity to admit to yourself that yes, you may have had some inappropriate and very unprofessional dreams about said partner and perhaps sometimes your mind would wander off during meetings when he wore a shirt with a _very_ deep neckline and maybe from time to time your gaze would accidentally land on his ass, _but_ you were _partners_ and Javier had a certain reputation with women you didn't exactly want to experience first-hand.

Damned if it wasn't difficult to keep your hands off him, though.

"Morning coffee, _compañera_."

Speak of the devil.

You lifted your head from the report you were typing just in time to see Javier place a steaming mug of coffee on your desk and hit you with the signature smirk and wink before he went over to the map of _Medellín_ on the wall. You didn't even have time to react or say anything before you heard the Colombian officers nearby snickering. You glared at them and they quickly shut their mouths and went back to work. They were smart enough not to say anything in front of you since the time they saw you take down a guy twice your size with your bare hands, but apparently not smart enough to know when to keep their mouths shut.

Still, it could’ve been much worse.

You returned to typing up your report, pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts. In your concentration, you didn't notice Javier looking over at you and then the Colombian cops. He said something to Murphy who was also observing what was happening, and then slowly walked to the center of the room and put his hands on his hips. Peña made sure he caught the eye of every officer who laughed.

"Oh, this is gonna be good," Murphy murmured to himself.

" _Escuchen_ ," Javier began with a low voice, laced with a dangerous undertone, " _Si a ustedes, hijos de puta, les gusta reírse tanto, ¿por qué no le dicen a Carrillo que no pudieron encontrar una mierda durante semanas hasta que Y/L/N nos consiguió información?_ " _(Listen up. If you motherfuckers like to laugh so much, why don’t you tell Carrillo you couldn’t find shit for weeks until Y/L/N got us_ information? _)_

You looked up at the sound of Javier's voice, understanding almost nothing of what he said but perfectly knowing what his tone meant.

" _¿Claro?_ " ( _Clear?)_

The cops all replied in unison, " _Claro._ "

Javier waited for them to go back to what they were doing before and then his gaze shifted to you, checking to see if you were alright. You smiled at him softly and mouthed _Thank you_ to which he nodded and smiled in return. He walked back to Murphy who had an unreadable expression on his face but the humorous glint in his eyes was unmistakable. You shook your head at him and Steve put his hands up in mock surrender before continuing his conversation with Javier.

Sighing, you went back to work, resigned to the fact that Javier Peña was making it very difficult for you to resist him.

* * *

Time passed, Escobar was still being a pain in the ass and the DEA had gotten almost nowhere with the investigation. Carrillo and his men were a great help but you couldn’t always agree with his methods, even though your partners and you had agreed: _all in_.

Lately, you, Murphy and Peña were spending more and more time at the office than out in the field, doing surveillance and analyzing potential leads and tips. The situation was too quiet and you didn’t like it; you had the gut feeling that something big was about to go down. The work at the office was slow and tedious, so often there would be tension arising due to agents and cops getting restless, but you were handling it well without complaint, even though your fingers were itching to go out and nail one of Escobar’s guys.

You were in the middle of transcribing a phone call between two of Pablo’s watchers when Steve perched on your desk and folded his hands in his lap.

“So what’s the deal with you and Peña?”

You looked up, confused, “What?”

“You and Peña,” he continued, “The whole _compañera_ thing, you two ogling each other, that kinda shit.”

It _was_ true that things had been getting a bit more… _flirty_ between you and Javier. He was relentless with his teasing and you started teasing back, thinking it was harmless and just banter; a small reprieve from the heavy work you were doing every day. You didn’t think people really paid attention to it but apparently you were wrong.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Murphy? There’s nothing going on between me and him. And what do you mean ‘the whole _compañera_ thing’?”

Steve chuckled. “You don’t know what that means?”

“I thought it meant ‘partner’.”

“Well, it _can_ mean that but it can also mean ‘girlfriend’. And Peña’s been using it a lot when talkin’ to you, which people have noticed. _And_ he hasn’t exactly done anything to shut down the rumors whenever someone makes a comment in front of him.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “All of you are being idiotic. I’m sure he means it like ‘partner’ and if he doesn’t, that doesn’t matter. You can calm down.”

“I’m calm, I’m calm,” Steve replied humorously, “I’m sure his informants are jealous, though. Be careful not to steal their thunder.”

You chuckled in spite of yourself and flipped Murphy off which made him laugh in return. He hit your arm lightly as a goodbye and went back to his own desk and you put your headphones back on to continue transcribing.

Javier was watching the whole display with curiosity, unable to really hear what the two of you talked about but he thought he heard his name a couple of times. He found himself smiling when you laughed but quickly sobered when Murphy turned around and pretended to think before writing something down in his notes.

* * *

When you and Javier shared your first kiss, it really wasn’t a good occasion.

The DEA had gotten a telephone tip about one of Escobar’s labs that was soon to be dismantled. The coordinates given were deep in the jungle and you had to leave quickly unless you wanted the trail to go cold. Carrillo had quickly assembled a hundred of his men and a convoy, while you and your partners suited up and got last-minute orders from your superiors. The raid was successful: you had managed to catch the workers still in the lab and there were minimal casualties on your side. The same couldn’t be said about Escobar’s men, but you did capture a few prisoners alive, which relieved you since you desperately needed inside information about the leader of the _Medellín Cartel_.

You _really_ wanted to nail that son of a bitch.

The prisoners were lined up in front of the lab, their hands intertwined on their heads on the order of Colonel Carrillo. He was pacing back and forth in front of them, while you, Javier and Steve were in the back, observing.

“ _Caballeros_ ,” Carrillo began, “ _Tienen que darse cuenta de la gravedad de la situación en la que se encuentran. Su patrón no se preocupa por ustedes. Si lo hiciera, estaría aquí y moriría con usted. Así que, será mejor que piense cuidadosamente lo que va a hacer a continuación_.” _(Gentlemen, you need to realize the gravity of the situation you're in. Your boss doesn't care about you. If he did, he'd be here and he'd die with you. So, you better think carefully what you're going to do next.)_

“ _Si alguien me dice dónde se esconde Pablo Escobar como una rata, puedo facilitarte la vida en la cárcel._ _Tú me ayudas, yo te ayudo._ ” _(If someone tells me where Pablo Escobar is hiding like a rat, I can make your life easier in jail. You help me, I help you.)_

Javier was quietly translating to you and Murphy what the Colonel was saying, for which you were grateful since you understood about half of the words and couldn’t really get the whole picture. There was a moment of silence once Carrillo stopped speaking, some of the men looking at each other, unsure of what to do and say. You saw a lot of terrified faces but also ones that didn’t give a shit. One of latter ones, by far the youngest, a kid that probably wasn’t even 18 years old, spoke up.

“ _Come mierda, hijo de puta_.” _(Eat shit, you son of a bitch.)_

 _That_ you understood perfectly without the help of Javier.

Carrillo went to stand in front of the young boy and leveled him with a cold stare. He nodded at the kid, who didn’t back down.

The Colonel crouched in front of him. “ _¿Es así como va a ser?_ ” _(Is that how it's going to be?)_

The boy spit in his face in reply and your stomach churned. You had a bad feeling about this.

“ _Muy bien_.” _(Very well.)_

It all happened so quickly that if you had blinked, you would’ve spared yourself the sight.

Carrillo wiped the spit from his cheek and quickly stood up before putting a bullet right in-between the kid’s eyes. You looked away and clenched your jaw so tightly, you thought you’d break a tooth. Javier was looking at the ground, his hands gripping his hips so hard, his knuckles were white, while Steve looked everywhere but at the boy’s corpse on the ground, surrounded by an expanding pool of blood, and breathed heavily.

“ _¡Esto es lo que pasa cuando proteges a tu querido patrón!_ _Mejor repensar tu estrategia en el viaje a la base o terminarás como él_ ,” Carrillo shouted at the prisoners before ordering his second-in-command to load them up in the trucks. _(This is what happens when you protect your dear boss! You better rethink your strategy on the way to the base or you'll end up just like him.)_

You didn’t look at the Colonel when he passed by the three of you and urged you to get a move on. The bile in your throat rose when you glanced at the kid on the ground who was probably either going to get left behind there as a warning to Escobar, or they were going to bury him somewhere no one would find for years and his family would be none the wiser. You managed to keep your lunch down but only barely, before you quickly made your way to Javier’s truck, unable to stay in that place any longer. Peña and Murphy followed closely behind and none of you said a word aloud on the way back to base.

After a seemingly endless string of meetings, it was decided that the prisoners would be left to stew for a night in the cells of the police station under heavy guard before taking off for interrogation the next day at an undisclosed location which was going to be personally conducted by Colonel Carrillo. You had a pretty good idea what that interrogation would be like, so you volunteered to stay behind and take care of the paperwork for the raid. You knew you had agreed to being _all in_ but this was another level of insanity you weren’t sure you signed up for. Yes, in your short time in Colombia, you had done many things you weren’t proud of, things that can never be on paper and that superiors would close their eyes to or just pretend they never happened. Many times they wouldn’t even know about them. But killing kids in cold blood? You couldn’t stomach that or justify it. All of you had one goal but this was going too far.

Still, it wasn’t your place to say anything and you knew that there was a war brewing and that the ‘good guys’ had to play by the ‘bad guys’’ rules if they wanted to win.

It was well after midnight and the office was empty which you were immensely grateful for, because that meant you could take out the hidden bottle of whiskey out of your drawer and pour yourself generous amounts multiple times. If you smoked, you would’ve gone through a packet of cigarettes already, but you didn’t really pick up the habit, even though everyone around you smoked practically every minute of the day.

The young boy’s face wouldn’t leave your mind. You had seen it on officers during meetings and debriefs after the raid and had to shake yourself out of it before you did something stupid. But now, you were alone, just you and your bottle of whiskey, and you let the silent tears, threatening to spill for hours, stream down your face. You felt dirty and guilty, and you wanted to scream and break things, and cry until your voice was hoarse. You couldn’t do any of those things, of course, you still had a job to finish, but you desperately needed to forget what happened somehow and the whiskey wasn’t working as well as you’d hoped.

“Still here, _compañera_?”

You quickly wiped the tears off your cheeks, fully knowing it wouldn’t hide the fact that you were crying, before turning around in your seat. Javier was leaning against the doorway, his hair mussed and his eyes exhausted and drooping. His gaze flitted across your face and body, taking in your disheveled state. Pity was clearly written all over his face, but there was an understanding there that somehow made you feel a bit better that you weren't alone in how you felt.

"Yeah," you answered quietly, your voice hoarse from the alcohol and being silent for hours.

Your partner nodded and started walking towards you, dragging one of the chairs with him on the way. He placed it next to you and pulled up his pants before sitting down.

"Got a glass for me?"

You were silent and unmoving for a moment, trying to appraise him. You didn't find anything you didn't like – his face was as open and as vulnerable as yours, so you reached into your bottom cabinet and pulled out your spare glass. You poured him the same amount of whiskey you had and handed it to him. He clinked his glass to yours and both of you downed the alcohol in one gulp. It seemed that you weren't the only one who was trying to forget.

"Can I ask you something, Javi?"

"Of course."

"Does it get easier? At all? Or do you get used to it?"

You couldn't keep the tremor off your voice no matter how hard you tried to appear strong in front of him. You hated showing weakness; those moments were usually reserved for when you were alone at home where you could privately process all your feelings and then move on the next day as if nothing had happened. You didn't plan for Javier seeing you like this, _ever_ , but this man always found a way to somehow fuck up your plans.

The strangest part was that you didn't mind.

Javier sighed. He leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at the ground for a couple of moments, as if he was contemplating whether to lie to you and comfort you or tell you the truth. You waited patiently until he looked up at you with glossy eyes.

"If I ever find out the answer to these questions, you'll be the first to know," your partner finally said, his voice cracking at the end. You nodded slowly; you figured you weren't going to be happy with his answer but you found comfort in the fact that he had basically told you that he struggled every time, same as you. Javier seemed to gouge something in your expression - his larger hand suddenly closed tentatively around yours, the warmth seeping from his skin travelling all the way from your fingers to your heart. You fixed him with an intense gaze and saw it mirrored in his own dark eyes. A sort of unspoken understanding and agreement passed between the two of you: there were a lot of ways to forget and the two of you could help each other.

You surged forward simultaneously. You tasted whiskey and nicotine on his lush lips and it was as intoxicating as you had imagined. You rose from your seat and settled yourself in his lap, his arms immediately snaking around your waist while yours tangled in his hair. You ground your hips down, which made Javier tighten his grip and lower his hands towards your ass, making you moan into his mouth and offering his tongue a perfect entrance. You forced yourself to pull away but not completely; just enough to lean your forehead against his and your lips to brush tantalizingly while you spoke.

"My place is closer," you whispered.

Javier looked up at you, "You sure?"

You simply kissed him in reply before standing up and grabbing his hand to lead him out of the base and into your home.

* * *

Needless to say, your night with Javier had been _unforgettable_.

The despair and intense desire to forget the harrowing events of that day in both of you had made the sex intense and _exactly_ what you both needed at that moment. You worked off your frustrations, letting yourselves express your feelings physically and the payoff was worth it.

It seemed that Peña’s reputation with the fairer sex was well-deserved.

It had been an unspoken agreement that this was just to forget, just to deal with all the jumbled thoughts and complicated feelings that came with the job and it _was_ that at first but then afterwards Javier had become _oh so gentle_ , his touches feather-light and his kisses soft and sweet and you had completely melted in his arms. You couldn’t help yourself – you felt safe and more dangerous than that – _loved_ , which was something that you were careful not to feel for months while working with him, careful not to fall for his charm, not to become another one of his conquests, just another woman in the list.

But then he nuzzled your neck and wrapped his arms around you protectively and you found yourself too tired to continue that train of thought, so you put your hands on top of his and closed your eyes.

You hadn’t expected him to stay – you fully expected for him to be gone in the morning, no trace left of him even being there – but he did. You woke up in his arms by his kisses and with an intensity that could break your heart, you realized you hadn’t felt this happy in a _long time_.

You didn’t get up right away, instead shifting your position so you were half-laying on him, your head on his shoulder and him on his back with his arm around your waist.

“Javi?”

“Mm?” he murmured in your hair, stroking your bare waist gently.

You stayed silent for a minute to fully absorb the moment, appreciate his warmth and his breath softly blowing on top of your head and you willed the uneasy feeling in your stomach to go away, because this was _good_.

“Why do you always call me _compañera_?”

He chuckled and you found you liked feeling the vibrations of his chest when he did.

“Because you are that to me, _compañera_.”

“In what sense?”

You felt him pull away from your hair and you looked up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He was smiling but there was a confused expression on his face.

“What I want to know is…” you began, “What do _you_ mean when you call me that?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise before he quickly covered it up with a smirk and you knew immediately that he was going to dodge the question.

“It can mean whatever you want it to mean.”

“Not what I asked, Peña,” you quickly countered. He smiled approvingly at that and you were slightly surprised to see he had a proud glint in his eyes. “I’m serious, now, c’mon.”

“And I meant what I said,” he replied with that low voice he used the night before and shifted, so he was on top of you, kissing you passionately and you completely forgot about talking.

Then you’d made breakfast, eaten with him, joked with him; it was as if this was the way your relationship had always been, like he belonged in your home and in your arms. It was bittersweet – you still waited for the other penny to drop. It was too easy and in your experience, _nothing_ was ever that easy. Still, you kissed him goodbye and smiled at him, _see you Monday_ s were exchanged and that was that.

The other penny dropped when said Monday came.

You knew you had to be careful at work – no one could know what you and Javier had gotten up to; fraternizing between agents was frowned upon, especially in such a high-profile and very dangerous operation as yours. It was clear to you that you were going to act as always and you had to watch your attitude towards Javier. Therefore, you went about your usual routine: you checked with security, showed them your badge, greeted the Colombian officers you knew and walked into the office with a small smile, where you found both of you partners already sitting at their desks, told them _Good morning_ and you waited for Murphy to lift up his hand and say _Morning, Y/L/N_ and Javier to look up at you with a grin and reply with the usual _Buenos días, compañera_. Sure enough, Steve did exactly as you predicted.

Except… Javier didn’t even look up from the files he was reading.

You walked over to your desk, sneaking a glance at him, but still, he didn’t even move a muscle and that uneasiness in your stomach from the night you were together was back with a vengeance. _He’s probably just trying to be conspicuous or he’s just very concentrated_ , you thought to yourself and set your things on your desk, trying to keep a poker face. That was probably the case, so you focused on your tasks of the day.

But then he didn’t even glance at you the whole day.

It was another day of work, consisting of surveillance and typing up reports, so you were trapped in your small office together and Javier’s interactions with you were strictly limited to him passing you documents wordlessly and discussing intel in a _very_ professional manner. No jokes, no smirks, no _compañera_ , no winks, _nothing_.

If he was trying not to raise suspicions about the two of you fucking, he was doing a piss-poor job.

You got increasingly frustrated with the hours passing by but you followed his lead and said nothing. If he was going to be like that, then two could play that game. You were too annoyed at him to stop and think that this childish behavior was even more telling that something happened between you to your other colleagues, since everyone had gotten used to the banter that you two frequently engaged in. Around 5 in the evening he got a call, looked at his watch and said _Estaré allí en 20 minutos (I’ll be there in 20 minutes)_ and you understood enough Spanish by now to know that he was most definitely going to go visit one of his favorite “informants”, which made your blood boil. The pressure you were applying with your pen on the report you were writing, while you watched Peña put on his jacket and put his gun in his pants, became so high that you almost made a hole in the paper.

“Where’re you goin’?” Murphy asked, “ _El burdel_?” _(The brothel?)_

Your lips thinned in anger but you willed yourself to keep writing and not show any reaction.

“Fuck off, Murphy,” Javier replied, annoyance clear in his voice. “I’m done for the day. Goodnight.”

As soon as he walked out and you were sure Steve had gone back to work, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding as quietly as possible and tried to hold back the tears of anger burning behind your eyes.

* * *

This bullshit continued for two weeks.

Javier kept on ignoring you as best as he could and you did the same: angry at him that he was behaving this way after being the complete opposite when you were together in your home, but even angrier at yourself for breaking your vow not to fall for his wiles. He never cared about you – you were just another woman in his bed for a night, just another conquest he used to get over his own feelings and then thrown away and forgotten about.

It was your own damn fault and that was the worst thing about the whole fiasco.

“Y/L/N, do you have a minute?”

You were sipping your morning coffee (that you had gotten for yourself) when Steve approached your desk. His hands were on his hips and his expression was serious, so you quickly put down your cup of coffee and wiped your hands on your pants.

“Sure,” you replied and followed Murphy out of the office.

He led you to the evidence room, which was too small of a space to house the thousands of police reports, evidence, photos and whatnot, which made the air inside stale and difficult to breathe, so it wasn’t advised for any living thing to remain there for long. You thought you were going to help your partner search for something, but then he closed the door behind you and fixed you with an unimpressed look. You waited for him to say something, his gaze unnerving you, until you got frustrated and spoke first.

“What do you want, Murphy?”

He sighed and shook his head before crossing his arms and coming closer to you, so he could speak more quietly.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Peña and frankly, I _don’t_ wanna know. It ain’t my business to pry into your personal lives but it _is_ my business when it affects our work.”

You opened your mouth to say something rude to him, already annoyed by the direction the conversation was going, but he quickly cut you off.

“You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about, so don’t give me any bullshit. You’re not fucking teenagers to act like this. This whole silent treatment is making us lose valuable time we could use to catch Escobar and people are starting to notice, which I’m sure neither you nor Peña want that. So you two better kiss and make up fast or this task force is going to shit.”

You didn’t say anything; you knew he was right and you felt ashamed that you were acting so childishly and possibly endangering the operation. Your personal problems couldn’t affect the trust you needed out in the field and you needed to resolve this as quickly as possible, for the good of everyone.

You stayed silent but nodded at Steve, who squeezed your shoulder before leaving the room. Sighing, you leaned your back on one of the shelves with evidence. You resolved to corner Javier after work so you could talk in private and fix this one way or another, so you could avoid any one of you going back to the US.

Later, when the sun had long gone down, you glanced at your watch impatiently. You had done your tasks for the day and you were free to go but you were trying to gauge when Javier would decide to go home, so you could pull him aside to talk. Steve had left a while ago, having promised his wife a long-awaited date night, but not without shooting you a warning look and subtly tilting his head towards Peña. You had simply waved your hand in reply and said goodbye.

Finally, Javier started gathering his things, so you took your cue to put your jacket on and lean against your desk. You waited for him to be done before you spoke.

“Javi, we need to talk.”

He quickly looked up at you at the sound of finality in your tone. You met his gaze and hoped he saw that there was no getting out of this because you weren’t backing down this time.

“Okay,” he replied, folding his arms across his chest, “what’s up?”

“Not here. Come on, I’ll make you some coffee at home.”

Javier hesitated at the mention of your apartment, this whole situation reminding him too much of the last time he was there. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna seduce you or anything. We really need to talk.”

He nodded at that and followed you wordlessly.

The drive to your apartment was as quiet as you expected, Javier focused on the road and you looking out the window. There were still kids playing in the streets, their mothers calling them to go back home but they pretended not to hear them. Some shady characters also hung around but it wasn’t your job to assess them, so you let yourself take in _Medellín_ during the night just as a spectator.

The car stopped, so you took your bag and went out to go unlock the front door, while Javier put the handbrake on and turned off the ignition. You walked in and hung your jacket on the hanger near the door before tossing your purse on the floor. You waited for Javier to come in, who walked slowly and unsurely, his hands in his pockets – a sign that he was nervous.

He sat silently at the kitchen island while you made two cups of coffee, yours with a little bit of sugar and milk, while leaving his black, just the way he liked it. You handed him his mug, to which he murmured a quiet _thanks_.

“So…” you began unsurely.

“So…” he mimicked, keeping his hands wrapped around the hot cup.

You sighed in resignation; it was clear that you had to lead this difficult conversation, seeing as how Javier was closed off even now.

“This silence isn’t helping anyone, Javier. Not you, not me, not Steve or any of our colleagues for that matter. We can’t work together like this.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he nodded. You waited for him to continue but he stayed silent. He was still going to be like this? Even now, when you were trying to resolve this?

The familiar anger that had become associated especially with one Javier Peña bubbled up and this time, you didn’t hold back.

“That’s it? ‘You’re right’? That’s all you have to say to me? After all we’ve been through together and a one night stand makes you pretend none of it happened?” Your voice rose in octaves with each sentence, all of your bottled up feelings for the past few weeks coming to the surface.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?”

The annoyance in his voice was the last straw.

“Anything! Anything at all! I deserve at least that little respect from you as your partner. The least you could do is tell me that it was a one-time thing; that I was just one of the many _putas_ you slept with, so we could move on with our lives. At least like that I’d have closure and we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“You’re not like that, Y/N.” Javier now had stood up and you realized that in your anger you had circled the kitchen island and you were standing in front of him, crowding his personal space.

“Aren’t I that, huh? Didn’t you go and fuck another one two days after me?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The Monday after we had sex. You took a call and immediately left, not even bothering to deny it to Murphy.”

“I was going to meet with an informant, I wasn’t going to the fucking brothel!”

You chuckled humorlessly, “Yeah, we all know about your ‘informants’.”

“It wasn’t like that, Y/N!” Javier was properly rivaling the intensity of your anger now, his voice matching your volume. “I got a tip from one of Escobar’s watchers, the kid was afraid someone would find out and get killed, especially after Carrillo—“

He stopped himself suddenly, not wanting to bring up the very thing that the two of you wanted desperately to forget and that led to this whole mess. You stepped back, the dead kid’s face immediately clouding your vision, but you shook your head and didn’t let yourself get sidetracked. You knew he wasn’t lying but that didn’t mean it made things okay.

“Fine then, why didn’t you say anything? Why did you pretend you didn’t even know me after that?”

“Because I was fucking terrified!” Javier shouted. Both of you breathed heavily, the air in the room charged with electricity.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Terrified of what?”

Javier rubbed his eyes in frustration before putting his hands on his hips and looking at you dead in the eye, his gaze wet.

“I didn’t plan on you, _compañera_ ,” he began but you cut him off quietly.

“Don’t… don’t call me that.”

Gulping, he continued, “It was harmless at first. I was joking around and you seemed like you didn’t mind and the job got a bit easier. But then… Then you had to go and be the kindest, smartest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and it wasn’t so harmless anymore. And after we—we were together, I panicked. I haven’t fallen for someone in _years_ and I promised myself never to do that to a woman I cared about again. I haven’t slept with anyone after you. And I realized that I was way in too deep with you and I thought it’d be better if I just made you hate me, so we could spare ourselves the pain.”

Holy _fuck_.

_Fuck._

Javier Peña had feelings for _you_.

You gulped and shook your head.

“That’s not your decision to make, Javi,” you said softly, your anger dissipating to a small simmer.

“I know, I realize that now and I’m sorry for doing that to you.”

Your eyes flooded with tears and you looked towards the ceiling in an effort to will them away. When you looked back down, Javier had stepped closer to you, his eyes just as tearful as yours. He extended his arms towards you hesitantly and you readily stepped into his embrace, hugging him tightly. He buried his face in your neck and placed a kiss on your pulse.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated in a whisper.

“You can’t do that to me again. I won’t—I won’t be able to handle that.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

You pulled back and put your hands on his cheeks, thumbs stroking gently his skin.

“What are we gonna do?” you whispered.

“I… Maybe we can see where this goes. If you’re willing to try again with me?”

 _God_ , his warm brown eyes were so vulnerable and he was so nervous that you’d say _no_ that you swear your heart broke for him then and there. You took a deep breath.

“We’ll have to keep it quiet. Otherwise, I’m probably gonna get shipped back on the next plane back to D.C. And no more shutting me out, Javi. This won’t work if you’re not willing to talk to me.”

“You’re right. I swear I’ll try for you, _compañera_.”

Your breath escaped your lips in a small chuckle and you shook your head before pressing your lips gently to his. He held you like a man lost in a desert, just discovering an oasis and you clutched his shoulders, as if afraid that he was going to disappear.

You tasted salt on his lips but you didn’t know if it was from your tears or his.

* * *

“So what _did_ you mean when you first started calling me _compañera_?”

Javi chuckled and put his beer down on the table. He tightened his grip on you and placed a kiss on your shoulder.

You were sitting in Javier’s lap at the balcony of your apartment, enjoying one of your days off. The weather was absolutely perfect, the _Medellín_ sun warming your face and the slight breeze providing a much needed cool-down from time to time.

You looked back at him with a grin, “You never did answer me.”

“Well,” he began, “It was _partner_ at first. You had definitely proven yourself in my eyes and had an impressive record so I had respect for you. Then, I guess it kinda morphed into _friend_. You were always there when I needed you and you had my back when I was in a tight spot. Then, one day, you came to work with your hair down and I had an ‘oh shit’ moment.”

You laughed out loud. “Really? Me with my hair down made you realize you had feelings for me?”

“Shh, don’t interrupt me now, _mi amor_. So, yeah, at that point the rumors started that I was using _compañera_ in its meaning for _girlfriend_ and was deliberately doing that like a code or something, so people would get confused.”

“And yet you didn’t deny any of it.”

He smirked. “No, I guess I didn’t.”

You shook your head at his antics and turned around in his lap, now fully facing him.

“ _Eres un idiota_ ,” _(You’re an idiot.)_ you whispered against his lips before kissing him. You felt him smile and couldn’t help but smile, too, effectively ruining your kiss.

“ _Pero soy tu idiota_ ,” _(I’m your idiot, though.)_ Javi said, pecking your nose. You gazed at the man you loved so much, you’d lay down your life for him, admiring the way his disheveled hair tousled in the wind and the way his eyes shone in the sun. You found that there was no better sight in the world and you smiled softly.

“Yeah, I guess you are.”


End file.
